


The Belly of the Beast

by vanillafluffy



Category: Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies), The Meg (2018)
Genre: 20 Minutes of Fame, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dinosaurs, Female Protagonist, Gen, Grace Under Pressure, Megalodon, Mild Language, POV Female Character, Science Fiction, Spring Break, Submarines, Survival, Undersea Adventures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-04 15:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18607060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: The theme was "Fantastic beasts" and the prompt was "basically anything with a Megalodon! (OCs welcome)". Delighted to oblige!





	The Belly of the Beast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [killing_kurare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/killing_kurare/gifts).



Look, it was Spring Break. Lots of people go to Cabo for Spring Break. Okay, so not everybody cruises down there in their own personal submarine, but it was cheaper than flying, and I figured as long as I had my passport with me, I wouldn’t get into trouble.

Famous last words. Anyway, I got down there, no problem. My problems started when I went looking for a room, because let me tell you what, that was a helluva long trip in a glorified tin can and I was really looking forward to stretching out on a real bed. 

Did I mention it was Spring Break? There was nothing, unless I wanted to shack up with a roomful of drunken strangers and no, I’m not that dumb.

My sub, _Anemone_ , is big enough that I can sleep aboard--that involves a yoga mat on the floor and is not my idea of fun. But what the hell, I was so tired I probably wouldn’t notice. I decided to turn in and maybe I’d have some luck finding a place tomorrow. I used my soft-sided overnight bag as a pillow and got as comfortable as I could.

I was stretched out on the deck, dead to the world, when the bottom dropped out. I woke to the sensation of having fallen, hard, to the diamond-plate flooring. _Anemone_ rocked violently.

Okay, so some a-hole with a big yacht just tore through the marina full steam ahead and that was his wake. It was annoying, but I could probably fall back to sleep in a few minutes…I'd been asleep for little more than an hour.

Moored at dock, _Anemone_ isn’t as sound-neutral as she is in mid-ocean. Through her hull, I heard crashing and banging--explosions? Fireworks? And…screaming? Shouting? Whatever it was, I was awake enough to be curious. I sleepily made my way to the pilot’s seat and activated the scans. The topside camera showed chaos on the docks, people running, boats jouncing at their moorings. And then I knew I wasn’t going to be getting any more sleep any time soon. 

One of the starboard-facing cameras below the waterline showed a nearby boat on the floor of the harbor. I could see bubbles still trailing from her cabin. At first, I couldn’t tell what that was beside her, then I realized it was the section of the dock she’d been moored to.

I was less than fully awake, but still trying to figure out what was going on. Earthquake, maybe, followed by a tsunami?

If that was the case, the safest thing to do would be move _Anemone_ out into open waters where she’d be less likely to be thrown against the pilings of the dock if there were more aftershocks.

I scampered up the ladder to open the hatch and emerged topside to release the line holding us to the dock. A man spotted me and began hollering for me to get out of there and take cover. Leave _Anemone_ to get pounded against the dock? Not a chance. I worked too hard to build and upgrade her to abandon ship. I waved to show I’d heard him, then went back below.

With the hatch snugged down behind me, I retracted the line (I call it the dog leash, which was what gave me the idea for it) and enabled the power source. 

Then I caught sight of movement on the aft starboard scan. At first, I thought it was the hull of a boat. Then I realized it was completely submerged. Another submarine? If so, it was a really big one. It grew closer and closer and bigger and bigger and then it dawned on me.

It wasn’t a sub. It was alive.

Without conscious decision, I flipped the switches to ‘record’. Otherwise, no one would believe this. The intruder was shark-like...it glided alongside _Anemone_ ’s aft starboard camera, blocking it. It came abreast of the fore camera, blocking that, too. It showed no signs of ending; it went on and on, like a city bus or a freight car. 

Not a shark--the ancestor of sharks--the megalodon. Like the one they’d had in captivity at Jurassic World, before the place was blown up by a volcano last year. Safe bet that’s where it came from. Cabo is a few hundred miles from Costa Rica, where the park used to be, but to an apex predator like a meg, that would be no big deal. 

Part of me wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there and zoom back to Malibu. Another part was gibbering with primal terror…so much so that if I’d left, I probably never would’ve set foot on _Anemone_ again. 

Okay, I told myself. Think. For starters, exactly what was I up against?

I checked the footage and calculated and that didn’t make me feel any better. The meg was roughly forty-six feet long-- _Anemone_ is ten--it moved at about 8 knots, but there was no telling if that was its top speed. Everything I know about megalodons comes from cheesy SyFy channel movies or direct-to-video offerings. I needed an expert.

I had my phone in my hand when the display lit up, showing an incoming call from the very person I’d been about to ring.

“Whatever you do, don’t go to Cabo!” Zee shrieked before I could even say ‘Hello’.

It was probably on the news, I thought. “Yeah, thanks. Zee, what can you tell me about megalodons?”

“Oh shit. You’re there? You’ve seen it?”

Paradoxically, I felt better. “Let me send you some footage.”

It took a minute to upload it from _Anemone_ ’s hard drive, and then there was silence, followed by a gasp. “My god, the size of that thing!”

“Forty-six feet, give or take. Do you want me to explain the math?”

“No, I want you to be anywhere else in the world right now.”

“Me, too--but I’m not. You’re the closest thing I have to an expert--what can you tell me?”

“That has to be Hammond’s meg, the one from the park. Let’s see--” Keys tapped in the background. “Okay, the last info they had on it, on the park website, they had it at thirty-nine feet. It’s been free-range for a year, so it could plausibly have grown some more. The biggest meg listed in the fossil record is fifty-one feet, so this one’s not a record, but it’s bad enough.”

“Ya think? Look, I’d make a run for home, but not knowing where it is, I’d be a sitting duck.”

“I can help you there--NUMA hit it with a tracker and they’re streaming the data as a public service. Their advice is to steer clear of it if at all possible and don’t engage it.”

“Engage it with what, my bang-stick?!” That’s an air-powered harpoon gun, in case you don’t scuba dive. Fine for normal sharks and eels and the like, but not for something the size of a gasoline tanker. “Okay, I found the NUMA site, I’ve got the current data…yup, it’s about ten nautical miles off Cabo right now and moving west.”

“What are you going to do?”

The meg continued on its westerly course. “How fast have they clocked that thing?” I asked. “NUMA’s got to be collecting data on it…it would help if I knew what its top speed was.”

A low whistle. “With the current, about 40 knots.”

Holy shit. _Anemone_ could outrun it, theoretically--but I reminded myself that forty knots was only what they recorded, not necessarily what the meg could actually do if hungry and/or pissed. 

Somebody started banging on the topside hatch. “Kid! Hey, kid! You gotta get out of there!” A man in Bermuda shorts stood next to the hatch, thumping on it with a huarache sandal.

“What fresh hell,” I sighed. “I’ll get back with you, Zee. Thanks for the info.”

I thumb on the microphone. “Get off my deck, mister.”

“That thing could come back at any minute!”

“Not likely. There’s a homing beacon on it. It’s almost twenty miles from here and headed for Hawaii by the looks of it. Now get the hell off my deck, or I’ll electrify it and fry you where you stand!!”

He scrambled onto the dock and barely took time to wrestle his sandal on before beating feet toward the safety of dry land. Nice of him to try to warn me, I thought, but my info was more current than his. The danger was past, at least for now.

What happened next, well, I was more than a little short on sleep. My judgement was less than stellar. If I’d gone back to sleep and caught a few hours more z’s, things probably would’ve turned out a lot differently. But I didn’t. I made up my mind to get the hell out of Cabo and get my ass back to Malibu where it belonged. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d cruised on autopilot while I napped. 

Without further ado, I maneuvered my way out of the marina and out to sea. I rigged my navigation computer to skirt the edge of the Pacific shelf so I wouldn’t run aground, and made damn sure to set an alarm that would go off if the meg came within forty miles of me. Just a precaution--by this point, it was nearly a hundred miles away, bearing west-northwest. It’s a big ocean--I had an alert set to wake me for anything potentially problematic and I left open a radio channel on the emergency frequency for good measure.

It was shortly before 4 a.m…with the nuts and bolts of navigation taken care of, I reclined in the pilot’s chair and nodded off. _Anemone_ was set to putt-putt along at half-power while I slept.

Five hours later, I was awakened by screaming. A woman’s voice was on the emergency channel, “Help, help! This is the _Reina Del Mar_ Can anyone hear me?” A shriek. “It’s rammed our boat! My husband went overboard--we need help! Jordan! Jordan! Oh my god, it’s coming back, we need help! Somebody, please help!”

According to the NUMA tracker, the meg was just outside the safe radius I’d programmed. I could keep going--but I’d always know I’d left that woman and whoever was with her.

“I read you, _Reina Del Mar_ ,” I said, canceling the autopilot. “This is the submarine _Anemone_ , enroute to your position. Sit tight. Try to get to a life raft…don’t thrash around too much. Don’t attract its attention, don't antagonize it.”

“My brother is shooting at it, trying to get it away from my husband. Jordan, can you make it to the dinghy? Rescue vessel, how far out are you?”

I rolled my eyes at the thought of someone trying to take the meg out with anything smaller than two kilos of plastique. “At top speed, I estimate my ETA as twenty-five minutes at best. Tell that idiot to stop shooting at it--at’s nearly fifty feet long and all he’s gonna do is piss it off.”

“He’s out of ammo,” she replied dismally. “We’re taking on water, we’re not going to last twenty-five minutes!”

 _Anemone_ was running flat-out. I never pushed her like that before because she wasn’t engineered for this kind of speed. “I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got.” She was crying, which is understandable, but not helpful. “Hey! What’s your name?”

“Holly,” she snuffled. “My husband is Jordan, my brother is Nick. We were coming up from--” 

Her scream was piercing, terrified. Crashing sounded over the air, then a crackle and dead silence.

For a minute, I thought I was gonna puke. Maybe the radio had shorted out because they were taking on water, but then again, maybe those three people and the _Reina Del Mar_ were the latest victims of the killer from another era. And there I was, heading right toward it, because I’d never be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try to help. What if one or more of them had made it to the dinghy or a life raft? I had to find out.

But I didn’t need to go it alone. I grabbed my phone and dialed Zee, really thankful that I invested in a good satellite link for _Anemone_.

“Just listen,” I said when she came on the line. “I’m on my way back from Cabo. I intercepted a distress call from a boat called _Reina Del Mar_. The meg rammed them. The lady on the radio said her name was Holly. There were two people with her, husband Jordan, brother Nick. Their boat was taking on water. Then the radio went dead. I’m headed there now to check for survivors.”

“You can’t! Are you crazy, Lulu? That thing could eat you and the _Anemone_ in one bite!”

“I know, but I can’t leave those people there, if they’re still alive. Relay my position to NUMA, the Coast Guard, the fucking Navy--whoever you can get ahold of. Make sure they know about the wreck. I have a feeling I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

“Crazy,” Zee says again. “Okay, let me see what I can do.”

That was the longest twenty-something minutes of my life. I tried to think, what would I do if there were survivors? I might be able to shoehorn three additional bodies down here, but it would drastically slow us down and probably overload life support after a few hours. If there was a raft or something, I could tow it, which would also be slow. Not to mention it might attract the meg’s attention. Of course, that assumed that they'd survived.

I slowed to minimal power and surfaced, scanning the area around the _Reina Del Mar_ ’s last transmission. There was a lot of floating debris--a cooler, a few cushions that could double as flotation devices, splintered pieces of wood and fiberglass. No signs of life, but I could be wrong.

Before I tried hailing them, I took the precaution of checking the NUMA tracker. The damn thing was fewer than five miles away--not my idea of a safe margin of error. 

I rang Zee again. “I’m here. The boat is wrecked and there’s no sign of anybody. I’m letting you know, because the meg is only a couple minutes out. Any progress on getting real help?”

“Lisa’s here--she’s on hold with the Coast Guard. I’ve commandeered Mom’s phone and I have NUMA on the other line. They’ve got a chopper in the air headed your way--they’re forty-five minutes out.”

“Great. I’m going to see if anyone is still hanging on.” I opened the mike, projecting over the topside speakers. “Ahoy, _Reina Del Mar_! Is anyone here? Holly? Can you hear me?”

I went back and forth, circling the area and calling out, desperately hoping that there was somebody, anybody still alive. Holly’s cries were going to haunt me, I knew. The other two, the men--I didn’t know them, but I still felt vaguely responsible.

I still had a live connection with Zee, who abruptly caught her breath. “Get out of there!” she blurted. “It’s turning! It’s headed right toward you and it’s moving fast!”

Sound carries over water, and I’d made enough of it. Fuck. It was two miles out and closing.

The way I saw it, I had two choices: sink to the bottom and lurk silently amid the wreckage while waiting for it to go away--or make a run for it. There was nothing here to save; I decided to run.

 _Anemone_ has a silent propulsion source, thanks to some very fancy upgrades. I took off, heading north-northeast toward the Baja coast. I got Zee busy looking for an inlet with a shallow enough draft that _Anemone_ could navigate it, but the meg would be beached. 

Zee gave me a heading, and I steered for it, the _Anemone_ red-lined and beginning to creak ominously.

“It went right past the wreck,” she says tensely. “It’s on an intercept course!”

Even without engine noise, there would still be turbulence from the sub’s passage. That damned prehistoric fish must be able to sense it--and was homing in on me.

At that point, stealth was a completely moot point. I pinged it with sonar and swore. I could practically throw a breath-mint down its throat. And it was gaining. 

I cut power and blew one of the ballast tanks, trying to get the meg to overshoot me. If I stayed absolutely silent, there was a chance it might leave me alone. Sharks are attracted to movement from their prey…if I didn’t move, look or smell like a fish, it might not recognize me as prey.

All the cameras were engaged; I was still live-streaming to Zee. I could see the gaping maw coming toward me…then the aft running lights were illuminating the megalodon’s tonsils. Well, maybe not literally tonsils, but I got an up-close and personal view of its gullet as it tried to swallow us.

Thinking fast, I hit the switch for the security measure that electrified the hull. No, I hadn’t been kidding when I told that guy on the dock to bugger off my deck. 

It almost worked. The damned thing horked us out and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then the lights went out. Auxiliary power came on. I frantically tried to reboot the primary system. I never actually had to use the Eel setting before. I’ve tested it, but clearly this was asking too much of it.

The cameras are down, NUMA is off-line and the call to Zee has dropped, but the sonar still works. Holding my breath, I ping it. 

It was right there, one of those “Objects in rear-view mirror may be closer than they appear” moments.

Then the system rebooted, the running lights came back up. I got to watch it swallow us again, and this time, I didn’t dare try to shock it.

Ridiculous, the things that go through your mind at a moment like that. There’s a cartoon of an stork trying to swallow a frog, but the frog has its hands around the stork’s throat. I felt like that frog. I was in a very, very bad position, but I wasn’t going to give up.

What did I have that could be used as a weapon? A gasoline-powered chainsaw would be perfect, but no such luck. The bang-stick? The anchor? Flare gun with four cartridges? I looked around. In addition to my bag, I had my wetsuit and diving gear. I had a decent supply of bottled water and protein bars. That, plus life support would probably keep me alive for days--maybe a week or more. I shuddered at the idea of spending days huddled inside _Anemone_ , inside the meg, which was probably going to be under assault by everybody before long.

I had to get out of there. 

My phone had no signal, which didn’t surprise me. Poor Zee is probably freaking out. Lisa, too. They’re the best friends a girl can have. Zee’s a marine biology major, while Lisa is studying Film. I wish I was with them now, watching something with lots of car chases and explosions instead of here, in the belly of the beast.

Another weird, tangential idea skittered through my mind--the post-credits scene in the first _Pacific Rim_ movie. With the hypothetical chainsaw, I could hack my way out of the meg. I have my dive knife. A toothpick, against against a forty-six foot monster! I need something really big to flay--or fillet--it with.

Wait-- _Anemone_ herself. She was originally designed with a standard propeller drive. When I’d installed the upgrades, I left the prop in place as a back-up, just locked the shaft.

The only small problem with that was, to free the shaft, I’d have to go EVA--actually exit the sub and manually release it. Leave my (dubiously) safe haven and go walkabout--inside the meg. It was a bona fide crazy idea, all right, but I had my wetsuit and air tanks. I could tether myself to the dog-leash ; it was more than long enough for me to belay myself to the rear of the sub. If--and it was a serious if--if I could get the hatch on the conning tower open wide enough to get out--and make it back in afterward. I couldn’t just prop the hatch open, otherwise god knows what would seep into _Anemone_.

Not letting myself think too hard about the possible consequences of what I was about to do, I pulled my wetsuit on over the shorts and tank I’d slept in. I’ve been diving since I was a kid. Suiting up calmed me. Having literally done this hundreds of times, it felt like the first sane thing I’d done in days.

The running lights were still on. The fleshy grotto I found myself in was raw and pink. _Anemone_ was surrounded by a sludge of I-didn’t-even-want-to-know-what, but it wasn’t floating. First thing, I clipped the dog-leash to my dive belt, along with my knife, bang-stick, flare gun, monkey wrench and a pry-bar. Cautiously, I made my way along the deck. I managed to lower myself onto the horizontal shelf of the port tail-plane. Working loose the bolts on the chuck holding the propeller in place was nerve-wracking.

The megalodon’s stomach seemed to expand and contract as it breathed. _Anemone_ rocked as the creature moved and more than once I thought I’d was going to be pitched into the soup of its digestive juices. I was glad I couldn’t smell it.

After five or ten minutes or two hours--time was oddly skewed--I had the prop free and turned to return to the conning tower. I was a little more than arm’s lengths away when the megalodon banked without warning. There was nothing close enough to grab onto; I went overboard.

What was worse, the sudden drastic course change caused _Anemone_ to roll.

I was pinned between what was now the floor of the creature’s stomach with _Anemone_ on top of me. The only thing that kept me from being squashed like a bug was the gap caused by the height of the conning tower. The upper half of my body was compressed while my legs were being squashed.

I thought of that cartoon frog again. I couldn’t choke the meg, but I could still hurt it. I worked loose my dive knife and sank it into the membrane enveloping me to the hilt.

It bellowed the sound reverberating through it. _Good,_ I thought with vindictive satisfaction as I sheathed my knife. _I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit here and let you kill me._

It thrashed some more and the terrible weight rolled off me. _Anemone_ more or less righted--she was listing at about a forty-degree angle--and I wrenched the hatch open. Something was flapping around nearby--it was a small shark, not more than two-and-a-half feet long, obviously swallowed whole. I used the bang-stick to put it out of its misery before unclipping the dog-leash and sliding back inside _Anemone_.

Did that just happen? My hands were shaking and my legs ached. I had to lean against the gear locker because I could hardly stand. I peeled off my mask and regulator--the smell was horrific. If I survived this episode, I was definitely going to be shopping for a new wetsuit.

After a little while, it dawned on me that I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I had zero appetite, but clearly my blood sugar was down around my ankles, hence the shakes.

I choked down a protein bar (birthday cake flavor) drank a bottle of water (water flavored) and felt a little less like I was coming unraveled.

Then I strapped myself into the pilot’s chair, because I didn’t want to risk landing on my head if the meg started doing acrobatics again. _Okay, you bastard. This time I’m really going to give you a bellyache._

Fortunately, I’d left the connections intact. I switched from repulsor power back to propeller drive, took a deep breath and hit the switch. There was a whining sound from the driveshaft as it tried to turn against a semi-solid substance. I figure it must have felt like getting a colonoscopy done by an immersion blender.

The meg plunged and sucked in a lot of water. _Anemone_ was afloat again, and the propeller started to move her. I pegged it. Its gullet compressed, and our forward progress stalled. The prop was still spinning, but the meg's throat had clamped down on us. just in front of the conning tower.

So close. So damn close...Try shocking it again? I didn't dare. But wait--I called a Hail Mary and blew the final ballast tank, inflating the meg's mid-section like a balloon. It roared and coughed us loose.

The front camera showed teeth approaching rapidly.

Then they were behind me and I kept going. The meg’s acrobatics must have taken out the satellite feed, because there was no sign of the NUMA data, and at that point, I didn’t care as long as that thing was going in another direction. 

I paused just long enough to switch from propeller back to repulsor power. I couldn't red-line it because of the loose prop, but I still managed a good clip. One good thing: the meg had been going in the right direction while I was its passenger. It took me about four and a half hours to get home after getting out, and I have never in my life been so happy to see the coast of Malibu.

As soon as I slid into the boathouse and connected with the house WiFi, my phone went to DefCon One. I had over four hundred missed texts and calls. A lot were from the usual suspects, Zee, Lisa, Keith and Leilani (my folks), with a smattering of acquaintances: distant relative, people from school (including most of the engineering faculty) and Tony Stark. Most of them, though, were from total strangers, although some of them were at least logical strangers--NUMA, Naval Affairs (PAC Fleet) and the legal department of InGen. 

My brain was on WTF overload. I peeled off the wetsuit and left it in a heap on the dock. I limped up the steps from the boathouse to the house, going in through the back door, still in the same shorts and tank I’d had on for two days now.

Leilani was in the kitchen, saw me and freaked out. Keith heard her scream, ran in from his home office and then _he_ freaked out. 

I sagged onto a stool at the breakfast bar, too tired to explain what happened. My right knee hurt like hell, but all things considered, I was the luckiest chick on the planet.

“Baby, are you okay? Should I call 911?” Leilani asked anxiously.

I stared at her in bemusement. Shook my head. “I’m okay. I'm just _starving_.”

Now, here’s the thing--my mom is not one of those neurotic helicopter parents, she isn’t big on hand-holding and I was halfway surprised that she didn’t say, “You know where the refrigerator is.” That would be normal. But all I had to do was say I was hungry and she got busy searing me a steak. Good old Omaha Steaks! (That’s not product placement--we’re been getting them forever and believe me, at that moment, a petite strip was exactly what I needed!)

Keith, meanwhile, was on his phone. “She’s back. Yes, she just this minute walked in, but she looks pretty worn-out…..”

Zee and Lisa both live in our cul-de-sac; they were literally there two minutes later. 

I sat and ate while they talked and a few things became clearer. Zee had posted my footage from the Cabo marina and it went viral. Even now, NUMA and the Navy were hunting the meg. (Good luck!) Although I hadn’t registered it at the time, after I rebooted the electrical system, the cameras came back on-- literally millions of people watched me and _Anemone_ being swallowed whole. Not only that, my EVA mission had uploaded as soon as we got out and obtained a satellite signal again--for some reason, I hadn’t been able to receive but I’d been broadcasting just fine.

Zee had a list of questions about the meg--yes, an actual list. Lisa earnestly told me she wanted me to be the subject of her next documentary. My folks looked as shell-shocked as I felt. “Tomorrow,” I promised. “I’ll tell you about everything tomorrow.”

Then I went and had that shower and fell into bed and slept for fourteen hours.

Now, it’s Labor Day weekend. A lot has happened in the last five months. I have it on good authority that I’m going to be in the next edition of _The Guinness Book of World Records_. I went shopping for a new wetsuit and donated the old one, with my dive knife, to the Smithsonian Institute. Lisa’s been invited to present her documentary of my experience at Sundance. InGen wants to buy me off, but so far, they can’t afford me.

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my twenty minutes of fame. I think the endorsement deals are going to build the _Anemone II_. I made the rounds of chat shows--Stephen Colbert was a sweetheart and the band played the theme from ‘Jaws’ when I walked onstage, which was cool AF. But the best part was when I went on _Good Morning America_ , where I was introduced to Holly and Jordan Benchley and Nick Pine--the survivors of the _Reina Del Mar_. They took refuge atop a floating air mattress but were too terrified to answer my hails for fear the meg would hear them. They’d been rescued by the NUMA chopper right about the time I’d become a snack for the meg.

It’s still out there. I keep a tab with the NUMA tracker feed open on my browser and the app on my phone. I check to see where the meg is if I’m going out on the water. I’m careful--but that thing isn't going to spoil my love of the ocean.

That said, next year for Spring Break? Arizona is sounding better and better.

 

…

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious, Lulu first appeared in my story "Salvage Rights", which explains how she's acquainted with Tony Stark (who makes a cameo) and more about _Anemone_.


End file.
